


and i hope that you'll want to

by liquidsky



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick AU" and maybe a little more</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. before

**Author's Note:**

> i saw this post with AU ideas the other day and i just couldn't /not/ do it. so: here it is. i'm gonna have to split this in two (or maybe three? probably two) chapters – wherein the first one is pretty much just a whole lot of sex, i am so sorry.  
> the title is a line from the song pull me down by mikky ekko.  
> oh, and i chose fictional names for his parents because i felt SUPER weird writing tons of porn and including his parents in the same thing. i don't know, sorry about it

Iker is not usually the type of guy to send dick pics. Honestly: he’s not. However, because college life is ridiculously exhausting and, between working on the final project for his communication sciences class and spending every week day at the city library as an attendant, he’s had pretty much zero time to go out and meet new people. Which is why he’s currently lying naked, staring at his phone and trying to figure out whether or not this is the angle that makes his cock look best.

“This is ridiculous,” Iker mutters, because it’s 3.a.m. and he’s wondering if adding filters to a picture of his penis makes him a catfish. He rolls his eyes to himself and hits send before he does anything too weird.

Iker lets his head fall against the pillow and starts stroking himself idly while he waits for a response. It doesn’t take too long – one, two, three, four, five slow strokes before his phone beeps. Eager, he grabs the device and opens the message. Iker groans. God, that is one seriously gorgeous dick. He stares at the picture— he’s rather appreciative of the color contrast between the white streaks of come and those tanned abs— and tightens his fingers around his shaft, biting his lips to suppress a moan. He drops his phone beside him on the mattress and puts both hands to use, one of his long fingers playing around the rim of his hole while he strokes the head of cock with his other hand. He keeps on doing that until he comes, chest heaving and mouth stretching around a soundless “oh”.

He reaches for one of the wipes on his bedside table and cleans himself off before retrieving his phone from the mess of sheets and typing in a quick message.

 

**> SENT - Today 3:22 AM**

**> Sleep tight ;)**

 

Sent.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Fuck. fuck. fuck. Shit. Sergio is late. He could not believe he’d actually forgotten to set his alarm. Crap. Shit. Fuck. He nearly brains himself walking straight into the open cupboard door and the day hasn’t even quite started yet. He seriously needs to turn this around, holy shit. Sighing, Sergio carelessly shoves the contents of his desk inside his messenger bag, checking his watch before he’s scrambling out the door and running down the stairs like the building is on fire.

Mara Fernandez, his boss, is generally a nice woman. She really is, with her easy smiles and gentle eyes. Her only fault being the often annoying habit of trying to talk Sergio into coming for dinner at her place so he can meet her son – who, according to her, is just perfect for Sergio. He’s not too prone to bitterness, but he can’t really help feeling slightly offended at the notion that some unknown dude would be perfect for him simply because he, as well as Sergio, likes guys. Along with that, there's also the fact that she doesn't really have the highest tolerance of late employees, which is why he's gonna have to come up with some serious flatter and straight up deal with her constant bugging about his love life. Sucking up to the boss it is, Ramos.

He’s at least 95% sure that his hair is ruined by the time he finally bursts into the building, only doing a quick stop to catch his breath before entering the office, putting on his best smile and greeting his co-workers. Sergio works as an intern at a computer services company. He doesn’t particularly like it, but he needs the money, so it’s not like he has much choice on the matter.

Sergio flops down on his chair, dropping his bag over his table and reaching for his phone. There’s a notification for a new message blinking up at him on the screen. He clicks open.

 

**> RECEIVED Today 3:22 AM**

**> Sleep tight ;)**

He snorts, smiling to himself as he puts his phone aside and prepares to start working on the huge pile of paperwork clogging his desk.

 

                                                                                                                                                 

* * *

 

It’s nearing his lunch break when he pulls his phone from where it’d been sitting untouched all morning.

 

** > SENT Today 11:19 AM **

** > u busy? **

 

** > RECEIVED Today 11:24 AM **

** > kinda. at work… why **

 

** > SENT Today 11:26 AM **

** > wanna meet 4 lunch? ;) **

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Iker leans his elbows on the wooden counter of the library and stares at his phone. Is this—

 

** > RECEIVED Today 11:27 AM **

** > by lunch i mean sex btw **

 

It is.

 

** > SENT Today 11:29 AM **

** > yeah ok u coming over or??? **

 

** > RECEIVED Today 11:30 AM **

**> sure send me the address**

  
The library doesn’t usually get many clients during lunch hours, so Iker figures it’s fine. Besides: he’s in charge of cleaning the bathroom, so at least he knows it’s pretty clean. Most of the people there will probably be gone in like, ten minutes or something, but he looks around anyway: two teenage girls are sharing a table by the YA shelf, an old lady is browsing through the classics shelf and three dudes that look sort of his age seem to be searching for something around the Sciences shelf. Iker doesn’t know why the heck they won’t just ask him, since that is the sole reason why he’s even there. But whatever, they’ll probably find it soon enough. He smirks to himself as he types in the address and hits send.

 

** > RECEIVED Today 11:36 AM **  
** > b there in 30 **

 

 

* * *

**  
**

 

Iker is dusting one of the Fantasy/Sci-fi shelfs when Sergio arrives. The bell above the door serves as a warning and he drops the duster on a table before walking towards Sergio – who, Iker thinks, clearly works at some at least semi-fancy place, judging by his clothes.

“Hey,” Sergio greets him, rocking on his heels a little. 

“Hi,” Iker smirks, “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” is what Sergio says, and Iker does, walks to the back of the room, Sergio hot on his trail.

 

 

                                                   

* * *

 

“Wow, five stars installation you’ve got here, huh?” Sergio jokes, leaning against the white sink. He’s taken off his jacket and pushed the cuffs of his dress shirt up to his forearms and the way he grins at Iker makes him wanna jump him.

“Yep, real fancy stuff,” Iker says. He walks forward until his chest is touching Sergio’s and breathes a puff of hot air on Sergio’s neck, “How do you want this?”

Sergio pushes away from him for a second, raises his index finger on a universal _“wait a second”_ gesture before he’s reaching for his discarded jacket and pulling a tiny packet of lube and a condom and pushing both at Iker’s general direction.

Iker snorts, “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Sergio rolls his eyes at him, “I like being prepared. Now, c’mon, take off your pants,”

But he doesn’t actually wait for Iker to take his pants off, instead swirling them around and pressing Iker against the marble before dropping to his knees. With a sly smile on his face, Sergio starts working on unbuttoning Iker’s jeans and pushing them down to his thighs. He presses a small kiss to Iker’s left thigh—and Iker would very much like to pretend his breath doesn’t get caught in the back of his throat at that, but. Iker’s hands stop to rest above Sergio’s head, slightly threading his fingers through his hair.

“Okay?” Sergio asks, hooking his fingers on the hem of Iker’s boxers and looking up at him for permission. Iker nods, mouth falling open and one of his hands gripping the sink behind him. Sergio presses his lips to Iker’s bulge through his underwear before getting them off of him, pushing them down with the rest of Iker’s pants and waiting for Iker to step out of the pile of clothes at his feet. When he does, kicking the bundle of fabric to the side, Sergio grips the shaft of Iker’s cock with his hand, stroking his length before closing his lips around the head. He sucks the tip for a little while, tightening his hold on Iker’s cock before bobbing his head down to take more of him in, getting Iker to throw his head back and bite his lips to stop an honest to god whine from leaving his mouth.

So: ok. Three things Iker has gathered about Sergio so far: 1) he works on a somewhat fancy place; 2) his schedule is probably just as fucked up as Ikers, if the way he only ever texts him for their weird fuck-not-quite-buddies thing either late at night or on lunch hours is anything to go by; 3) he gives fucking incredible head. Also: he’s probably the hottest person Iker has ever had sex with, which is always a plus. His grip on Sergio’s hair turns a little firmer when Sergio lets Iker’s cock slip away from his mouth so he can lick at Iker’s balls. God: Iker’s honestly hit the jackpot with this booty call thing, oh my g—

"Your turn now,” Sergio tells him, standing up from his position on the floor and kissing Iker as filthily as he knows how, swiping his tongue over Iker’s bottom lip and nipping at it softly.

Iker melts into the kiss, his fingers fumbling ridiculously with the buttons on Sergio’s shirt until he stops him, pushes away from Iker so he can undo them himself, throwing his shirt to the pile of discarded clothes beside them before going back to licking his way into Iker’s mouth.

“Pants too”, is what Iker says between kisses, his voice rough from being stupidly turned on. As it turns out: Sergio is also pretty incredible at undoing people’s pants, even his own. Which is a dumb as shit observation from Iker’s part, but he mentally shrugs it off because, whatever, you can’t fault a man for the idiotic shit one’s brain comes up with when horny. That’s like, an unspoken rule. Or something. God, is he really doing the mental rambling thing right now?  He needs t—” _Oh,_ ”

Is the super eloquent interjection that leaves his lips when Sergio lines their cocks together, grinding against him deliciously slow. Sergio’s lips are darting down to Iker’s jawline, pressing wet kisses along his neck, biting his earlobe, his heavy breathing against Iker’s hair.

Iker’s hands travel upwards to grip at Sergio’s tattooed arms, his short fingernails digging into defined muscle as Iker groans from the discovery of a particularly amazing angle where their cocks are rubbing together.

“Fuck,” Iker says.

“Ye– _ah_ ,” Sergio agrees, burying his face on the crook of Iker’s neck, “want you to fuck me so bad,” he half-whines, and to say Iker moans at that would most definitely be an understatement.

“Okay,” Iker tells him, and presses a small peck to Sergio’s forehead before reaching for the packet of lube. He opens it with his teeth, spits out the plastic— and Sergio snorts at that, mumbles a “nice” against Iker’s collarbone— and coats his fingers with it before dropping the packet on the sink by their side. Iker spreads his legs so Sergio can insinuate himself more comfortably between them and pulls him almost impossibly closer, nuzzling his cheek. He snakes one of his arms around Sergio’s body and lets his hands travel downwards, brushing by the swell of Sergio’s ass, spreading him open and circling a slick finger around his entrance.

“Good?”

Sergio nods; Iker pushes his index finger in, past the first knuckle, then the second. Sergio’s breaths are coming into hot puffs of air now, shallow and quick like he’s trying to pull himself together. Which happens to be the exact opposite of Iker wants – he starts moving his finger, thrusting in and out, making Sergio grind against him and bury this tiny little sounds on his skin. As gently as he can, he inserts a second finger, scissoring Sergio open very slowly while he kisses his way down Sergio’s neck and, with his other hand, pinches one of Sergio’s nipples.

Sergio’s pretty sure he’s hyperventilating by now. Everything is too warm and too sensitive and he feels like maybe his insides are being set on fire in the most absurd way. God, he makes such good choices sometimes. Sleeping with Iker for the first time is pretty high on that list. So is getting his number and exchanging an insane amount of dick pics with each other. And sleeping with Iker for the second—and third, and fourth, and fifth—time. Followed by more dick pics and some sexting and the weird notion that he has a fuck buddy now. Granted, one that he likes quite more than he thinks he should. But still: incredible choices. He sighs, his hands gripping Iker’s neck like he’s an anchor – and Sergio is some stupidly horny ship that is about to sail away – so he can kiss him some more as Iker slides a third finger into him, stretching him deliciously.

He keeps that on for a while, fingering Sergio slow, then fast, alternating between equally maddening paces like he’s trying to straight up kill Sergio.

Sergio’s heart is beating worryingly fast and he’s hard enough to cut through stone by the time Iker finally, finally pulls his fingers out of Sergio and reaches for the condom, opening the package as fast as he can and rolling it down his cock. He steps away from the sink, letting Sergio take a step forward and lean both his hands on the marble before coming up behind him, lightly squeezing Sergio’s ass.

Sergio throws his head back against Iker’s chest, and. Wow. Finds his and Iker’s reflections staring back at him, both of them looking completely debauched. Sergio’s hair sticking up on a bunch of weird angles, Iker’s fair skin flushed all the way down to his chest and their mouths red and swollen from kissing. Iker’s reflection smiles at him and Sergio smiles back. The reflection of two smiling idiots staring at each other through a bathroom mirror both sexy and endearing. His grin quickly turns into a smirk, and Iker must take that as his cue, because he plasters himself all over Sergio’s back and spreads his ass-cheeks with both of his hands, resting them there for a second before the tip of his cock catches on the rim of Sergio’s hole.

He shivers. A full body shudder that forces a low groan out of his mouth and _jesus fuck_ —

Iker pushes in. Very, very slowly. Just the head, at first, and it’s already a stretch because somehow it always is. Sergio wants to push back, force Iker to go _deeper_ faster and fuck himself on his cock. Which is what he does, and Iker slides in a bit further, then all the way when he realizes that that’s what Sergio actually wants.

“Fuck—that’s, I,” Sergio breathes out, arching his back and pushing down just as Iker pushes upwards.

They’re good at this. Unbelievably good at reading each other’s bodies and, although Sergio can’t know whether or not they’d fit on every other aspect of their lives, they sure as hell seem to fit on this, meeting each other’s every thrust, intertwining their fingers when Iker falls forward, his chest pressed snugly against Sergio’s back. Their moans are the only thing to be heard around them, breathy sounds escaping their lips whenever it gets too good, too sensitive, too hot.

Sergio lets his head fall back to rest on the space between Iker’s neck and shoulders and Iker presses his lips to every inch of skin he can find, sweeping his tongue across the soft skin of Sergio’s neck and sucking hard. It’s unexpected, one second Sergio is pushing back; not even a second later and he’s toppling over the edge, coming in white spurts all over the sink and their hands, his legs threatening to give way under him.

Iker holds him through it, thrusts harder and faster until he’s coming, too, muffling his moans on Sergio’s tangled hair.

They stay like that for about a minute before Iker pulls out, properly throwing the used condom in the trash before turning to Sergio with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

“That,” he starts, “Was—”

“Fucking awesome,” Sergio completes, throwing Iker a pleased look, then his shirt and underwear. “If nothing else, we could totally make it in the porn industry,”

Iker laughs, “Damn right we could. But I think I’m gonna stick to—”

“Communication sciences, _I know,_ ” Sergio tells him, smiling softly, “How’s that final project going, by the way?”

If Iker is surprised that Sergio has actually paid attention to this, he doesn’t show it. And Sergio is ridiculously thankful for that, doesn’t want to be the one in their arrangement who starts to get too involved. Iker groans dramatically, “It’s shit”

Sergio laughs, pulling up his pants and buttoning up his shirt, “It can’t be that bad,”

“It is,” he says, dead serious. Sergio’s insides sort of twist and turn in a very _I fucked up_ manner before Iker bursts out laughing, “Ok, it’s not _that_ bad. But they’re seriously getting in the way of my football, which sucks. So, there’s that.”

Sergio’s smile turns almost blinding at the mention of football, and they spent the last 15 minutes of Sergio’s lunch time getting dressed and loudly agreeing on their mutual love for Real Madrid. It’s sort of pretty great, even if Sergio has to nearly run his way back to work if he wants to get there in time.

 

 

                                                            

* * *

 

 

Because this is life, and life is hardly ever perfect, the first thing that Sergio does when he topples into the office is walk straight into his boss. Which is not an euphemism at all, he genuinely walks straight into her, causing the pile of paper she was holding to fly all over the room and her plastic cup to break, splashing coffee all over both of them. Life, as previously established, is shit. He has a second of mortification where he mostly just thinks about turning around and never facing anyone in the office again, but that would mean no money and no money would mean a bunch of unnecessary and never ending crap, so he plasters a smile on his face and tries to roll with it as best as he can.

Which leads to him falling to his knees so he can help her pick up most of the documents while repeatedly apologizing.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Mara tells him reassuringly, because of course she would, a soft smile on her face. “The worst of the damage has been done to your shirt, really,”

Indeed it has, he thinks, giving his shirt a mellow look, “I should pay more attention next time. I’m really sorry, is there anything I can do?”

 

                                                            

* * *

 

 

“Is there anything I can do?” _famous last words_.

That is how Sergio ends up on his boss’ car, the pile containing the ridiculous amount of files they had picked up from the floor after Sergio’s lack of coordination and planning had gotten him into this ridiculous situation sitting heavily on his lap as they make their way to Mara’s house, where she had pretty much forced him to have dinner at. Obviously it had not occurred to her that her extreme match making plans would be severely jeopardized by the fact that he is currently dressed in a coffee stained shirt and has a pretty huge hickey poking out of said shirt. How is this his life.

“Here we are!” She announces, stopping the car in front of a small light pink house that looks like it was made for a happy family, which is coincidentally the impression he’s always gotten from Mara. Grinning, she leads him inside.

It’s a pretty cosy house, Sergio thinks, looking at the wooden furniture and the comfortable-looking couch. The house looks pretty lived in, too, a bunch of child-made artwork hanging from the walls.

She introduces Sergio to her husband—a tall, serious-looking man that smiles at her like he thinks she’s the greatest thing to have ever walked on earth. Sergio likes him immediately.

“Hey,” Mara says, “You can wait on the living room with Jorge as I finish dinner, ok?”

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. No one seemed to be mortally offended by his stained shirt, Mara’s husband was actually a pretty cool guy – gesticulating wildly as they discussed Real Madrid’s new defense tactics – and the food is smelling great.

Jorge excuses himself so he can go help Mara set the table and, by the time Sergio is sitting alone, comfortably sipping some grape juice, he’d nearly forgotten about Mara’s match making plans. Only to be reminded when he hears the front door open and close, footsteps getting closer and closer to reveal—

Iker.

Sergio gapes. _What the fuck_. Oh my god, is he being stalked? Iker is looking at him with wide eyes and _fuck_. Sergio should have known this would be a bad idea, there’s no way in hell a super hot guy would be this into him and not have some creepy stalker tendencies, he could not believe Iker had followed him all the way to Mara’s house. Oh my god. _Oh sh_ —

“Are you– _stalking_ me?” Iker blurts out, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

Wait.

W _hat._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three words: dinner from hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am weak as hell. i stayed up a lot longer than i should so i could finish this today. this chapter is actually pretty short, so it's not like it was too much of a hassle. but still.

Between then and now, a total of five things have happened:

 

  1. Sergio spluttered around a few “no, why would I, what the hec—”.

  2. Mara walked into the room to announce that dinner was ready.

  3. Mara kissed Iker on the cheek and introduced him to Sergio as the son she’d always mentioned.

  4. Mara then explained to Iker that this, pointing to Sergio, was the guy she always told him about.

  5. Iker and Sergio stared at each other for a ridiculous amount of time before following it up with a mumbled “we, uh, know each other already”, much to Mara’s intense pleasure.




  
Now, though, they are all sitting around what is apparently Iker’s family table: Mara, Jorge, Iker and Ana—Iker’s sister, who had jumped down the stairs wearing a dress that was way too revealing for what seemed to be a casual family dinner. So now they are eating. “Pass me the potatoes.”, “Sure!” levels of not awkward at all. Which is to say that nothing has ever been more awkward than this dinner right here, Sergio and Iker sneaking panic’d glances at each other, neither of them wanting anyone to notice that guess what, they’ve been fucking.

 

“So,” Iker’s father starts, using his fork to point at Sergio and Iker, “Mara told me you know each other already! How’s that?”

 

Neither of them is proud of the moment of overwhelming silence that follows. That is, until they both start talking at the same exact time.

 

“College,” is what Sergio says.

 

“Work,” is what Iker says. Jorge looks both amused and confused, raising his eyebrows at them. Then, to Sergio “I thought you worked with Mara, though”

 

To which Sergio responds that “Yeah, I do! But Iker works at the library and I go there sometimes to, uh…”

 

“Pick up some books,” Iker finishes for him, giving his dad a forced smile.

 

“That’s nice,” Mara says, smiling at them, “so do you ever hang out of work?”

 

Iker shrugs, trying for nonchalance and missing by a mile, “Sure,” and Sergio kicks him in the shin from under the table because, what the hell, sure?

 

And maybe, of all the things that have happened tonight, this is the truest proof that life is indeed against them, because Iker jumps from the kick, knocking down a cup of grape juice that ends up soaking the cuffs of Sergio’s dress shirt, that he then has to push up a little, revealing the tattoo on his wrist.

 

Iker sees the exact moment his sister’s eyes zero in on the tattoo and he knows, like someone watching a car crash from the outside, that there is nothing he can do to stop it from happening, because Ana then makes what sounds a lot like the evil squeal of a stuffed pet from hell and bursts out,

 

“Oh my God,” and it’s too loud, “He’s pretty dick guy!”

 

Sergio chokes. Iker blushes. His parents look ridiculously confused and Ana looks like she’s just won the lottery. Iker has to slap Sergio on the back about five times for him to stop choking. His face looks almost purple by the time he stops coughing. Sergio looks from Iker to Ana then back again.

 

“Seriously?” he sounds a little manic, “Did you seriously show her—oh my god”

 

Iker shakes his head, his eyes going wide. Ana – and by then Iker is absolutely convinced that someone made his sister switch places with a spawn of the devil – covers her mouth. Both Mara and Jorge look lost.

 

“I didn’t,” he explains, “She took my phone one day and it was just there because, y’know”

 

“Pretty dick? Honestly?”

 

“What can I say, it’s a pretty handsome penis,” Anna says. Mara and Jorge gasp, apparently stumbling out of their confusion. Iker looks up, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. One look at Sergio and it’s not hard to understand that he totally shares the sentiment.

 

“What,” Mara starts, very slowly, “is going on?”

 

Anna cackles, straight up cackles like a witch on a children’s movie. Sergio looks a lot like he’s about to throw up.

 

“Can we please stop talking about my dick in front of my boss and her husband? Please?” and Iker nods because yes. They need to stop talking about it.

 

“Your—” Iker’s father looks absolutely horrified, staring at Iker like he just outright told everyone that he is, indeed, working as a secretary for Satan, “Iker. Please tell me we have raised you better than that”

 

Iker turns to Anna, “I am going to kill you,”

 

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god” she giggles.

 

Sergio is staring off into nothingness, like if he stays quiet for long enough God will take pity on him and sweep him the heck out of there.

 

It doesn’t happen.

 

Mara sets down her fork, “Ok. I have decided that we,” and she shoots a look at her husband, “are gonna respect that you’re adults who can decide for yourselves what is best and not gonna comment on the fact that you have been sending pictures of your genitalia to someone on the internet,”

 

“It’s not someone on the internet, for christ’s sak—”

 

“I don’t care. I don’t wanna know. Just promise me you’re being safe,” she tells them, looking very motherly. Sergio wonders how it is possible for someone to simultaneously wish they were dead and feel this level of endearment towards another being.

 

Anna is still laughing when she gets up from the table, patting Iker’s back and muttering a “sorry,” between snickers. She turns to Sergio then, “It was nice to meet you, pret—”

 

“—Please don’t—”

 

“—ty dick”

 

Why.

 

Iker’s father is the next to get up from the table, shooting them both a half-dirty, half-amused look before grabbing his plate and walking into the kitchen. Mara is the last one, staring at them seriously, “You two need to talk, so we’re all gonna give you some privacy.”

 

She stands up, then, strutting halfway towards the kitchen before turning to them with a smile, “See, I told you you’d like each other,” and walks off.

 

Iker groans.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Sergio starts, mostly because someone has to, “This has been the most mortifying thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Iker tells him, sounding honest, “This whole thing was so out of line and I swear I would have never shown her something that intimate and I’m really sorry that you were embarrassed in front of my mom because of me and I—why the fuck are you laughing?”

 

And he can’t stop, laughing so hard that tears start to pool on his eyes, “Ok, so. Mortifying, check. Weirdest? Also check. But you’ve gotta admit, it was pretty fucking funny.”

 

Iker can’t help but laugh too, because: yeah. “I thought my dad was gonna kill us, holy shit.”

 

“Right? The look on his face,” he snorts. He only talks again once he’s stopped giggling, this time shooting Iker a sly look, “and pretty dick, huh? Is that right?”

 

“My mom is right there, there is no way I’m complimenting your penis anywhere near her,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

“Somewhere else, then?” Sergio says, and Iker looks adorably confused for a second.

 

“You still want this? Really?”

 

“Yep. Crazy family and all—”

 

“—uh, harsh—”

 

“Your entire family has just discussed my penis over dinner”, Sergio points out.

 

“Point taken,” Iker says. “And somewhere else, huh?”

 

Sergio nods, smirking a little.

 

“My place, maybe?” Iker suggests, but the way he says it makes it sound like a lot more than just a suggestion, “and you could stay. I mean, if you want to, I don’t—”

 

“I do,” Sergio interrupts, “I’d like that a lot.”

 

They smile at each other, eyes going soft.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Not even the sound of Iker’s mother whooping from inside the kitchen is enough to ruin the mood.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> uh, well. i completely lost my cool and had to write the second chapter (which is a tiny ass chapter, sorry about it) today so this could be finished.   
> OH! also: english is not my first language, so PLEASE let me know if there are any atrocious mistakes so i can correct them and learn for future reference. + this is unbeta'd, any and all mistakes are my own. ok, i think that's it. bye, thank you for reading if you did! xoxo


End file.
